


Blowing Out the Candles

by Raicho



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Come Eating, Daddy Kink, Facials, Licking, M/M, Oral Sex, submissive Daryl
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-09
Updated: 2016-08-09
Packaged: 2018-08-07 17:23:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7723222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raicho/pseuds/Raicho
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He’s on the edge, counting his candles and he knows he doesn’t have much left before he’s blowing them all out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blowing Out the Candles

            He’s on his knees, naked and wanting; situated dead-center between the ex-officer’s spread legs, and Rick can’t help but watch as nimble fingers trail along the rough denim fabric of his jeans. Rick watches diligent fingers slide upward to pinch at the metal tab of his front zipper, and pull it downward with a slow purr. Rick’s fingers twitch as he struggles to contain his excitement as another hand intimately works to pop open the button to his pants.

            “Daryl…” Rick half moans—half begs—as calloused hands grip along his hip bones and begin to pull on his boxers until they’re caught mid-thigh. His cock is freed and straining with anticipation; the cool air of the room sends shivers up is spine, and his eyes close shut from the pleasure of the sensation.

            A tongue snakes out from between thin lips, leaning in close to lick at the underside of Rick’s member. The touch of a hand surprises Rick as he feels his balls suddenly being fondled—gently rolled in the other’s hand—and he can’t help but gasp at the feeling. Precum drips, and Rick is acutely aware when a warm mouth envelopes him, taking him further into a welcoming heat that he has become all too familiar with in recent months. Hot velvet skin glides in and out as the hungry mouth pushes itself forward and back. The slight hint of scraping teeth along his flesh gives Rick goosebumps.

            Lost in euphoria, Rick reaches his hand forward to grab at a fistful of long dark hair—something to help ground himself in the moment. He can feel himself becoming lost in the rhythm of the act, and he can’t help but moan like a whore in heat when he’s taken in further—all the way to the root—and short stubble brushes against his sensitive flesh. It’s hot and wet, and he can feel himself being sucked in and clenched around like he’s got the waters from the fountain of youth ready at the spigot.

            Another calloused hand slides along the back of his thigh, pushing Rick toward the heat and angling him deeper. There’s a low muffled hum that vibrates Rick’s cock, causing the ex-officer to lean forward, opening his mouth wide in the shape of an ‘O’—salacious and sinful. Rick wants to cry it feels so damn good—being touched and taken. He’s on the edge, counting his candles and he knows he doesn’t have much left before he’s blowing them all out.

            “Oh God… Daryl…” It feels like he’s sobbing his lover’s name, begging for some end to this tease; he’s chasing the dragon and he’s afraid of getting lost in the clouds.

            Cold air hits like pin-prickling needles as the archer's mouth releases Rick from its sweltering comfort. Wet saliva cools on heated flesh, and Rick whines at the loss of torridity.

            “Want y’ t’ cum on me, Daddy.” Rick hears Daryl’s mumbled southern drawl; begging in his own right with the soft cadence of a whisper.

            Rick strains to open his eyes and looks down between his spread legs at the man with disheveled hair; a desperate look of want etched clearly in his fox-sharp eyes—silently pleading. Daryl’s lips are swollen, and he’s sucking and chewing on them nervously as he watches Rick look him over—and Rick can’t help but think of how badly he wants those lips to be touching him again.

            Something snaps—like a dam overflowing—and a flood of need hits into Rick like a freight train. The hold he has in Daryl’s hair grips tighter and pulls his head back, angling the archer’s face upward. Rick watches as a usually stoic face scrunches into something more wanton and vulnerable, and Rick’s seeing stars.

            A moment goes missing from memory as white-hot seed spills, covering pale flesh and scars.

            Rick’s vision is blurred, but when he looks down he sees Daryl kneeling submissively in place—creamy white splotches soaking into his skin and dripping from his hair. The sight sends Rick reeling—a sense of possessive pride overwhelms him as he watches his hunter sit marked with his claim.

            Without thinking, Rick reaches down to run a finger through a glob of cum stuck to Daryl’s cheek; he’s careful to watch how the other man shivers beneath his touch. Rick examines the creamy substance for a second or two before rubbing it along the archer’s lips—painting delicate pink with white slick. A shy tongue pokes out from between Daryl’s lips, and Rick can only smile as he watches the hunter gingerly lick at his smeared seed. Daryl hums with appreciation, and Rick repeats the act over; tender fingers painting and feeding the younger man until there isn’t a drop left.

            “Y’ taste good.” The archer’s voice is quiet as he finishes licking the last drops of seed from Rick’s finger; Daryl’s eyes are hooded and his cheeks are flushed, “Like dessert.”

            Rick huffs out a short laugh before stroking a gentle hand through the archer’s sweat-soaked hair, “You should know your daddy likes giving you treats.”


End file.
